


Home

by chimwonshik



Series: House of Blossoms [5]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, POV Alternating, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 20:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15445467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimwonshik/pseuds/chimwonshik
Summary: A business trip overseas separates Taekwoon from Wonshik and it's almost more than they can bear.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinistrocular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinistrocular/gifts).



> The final two chapters of the main fic take place at the end of September and this takes place almost a year later.
> 
> (Also, keep an eye out for the blink-and-you'll-miss-it Chabean ;) It's a little teaser for what's to come in the sequel, House of Mirrors!)

Taekwoon heaves a mighty sigh of relief as he steps over the threshold of the apartment he shares with his boyfriend and drops the handle of his suitcase to the floor. Being back after his two-week business trip to London is like having a weight lifted, but it’s jarring to have the apartment be empty, as if he'd passed into another dimension somewhere between home and the airport.

Wonshik had let him know he wouldn't be able to be here, so it isn't a surprise, but it still has him gazing about forlornly, somehow feeling abandoned.

When Taekwoon had told Wonshik he'd be going to London for a fortnight with Hakyeon for a fashion week, he hadn't realised how tough it would be to part from him, too ecstatic about the opportunity.

However, while it was a dream come true for him, after the initial burst of enthusiasm, Wonshik hadn't been so thrilled. His childish streak had reared its head, as endearing as it was grating.

"Just don't forget about me," he'd said, bottom lip turning sulky and seeming to double in size.

"No chance of that," Taekwoon replied, poking him in the stomach. "Anyway, it's only two weeks! It's not as if I'm studying abroad for a year to fool around with sexy European men."

That had been the entirely wrong thing to say.

Wonshik's eyes flashed with panic as he sat up. "You think Europ—"

Taekwoon silenced him with a kiss. "That's not what I meant."

His boyfriend didn't look convinced.

"How about," Taekwoon began, climbing into his lap, "you make it so I can't forget?" He trailed his finger down his chest and Wonshik licked his lips.

"I can do that," he murmured, tilting his head up to kiss him.

It had started to sink in that Wonshik wouldn't get any sex for two weeks – the longest he'd been without it for years – and he'd made sure to be unbelievably thorough. Needless to say, Taekwoon had been sore for nearly three days straight, much to Hakyeon's entertainment.

"You would have been the same if Hongbin had managed to get his hands on you," Taekwoon had reminded him.

Hakyeon had been quick to scoff, grumbling, "He wishes," but the colour in his cheeks had given him away. He hadn't mentioned it again after that.

For the rest of the trip, Wonshik had been a constant weight on his mind despite Taekwoon being well and truly in his element. And now he’s finally home, after Wonshik's despair at his leaving and all of the heartache, he isn't even able to be here to greet him, away at a photoshoot instead.

Wonshik's career as a model seemed to have gone from nought to sixty once Taekwoon had given him an opportunity at the department store to use his irresistible charm – and a hint of seduction – to secure the spot as the model for their suits. His posters have been displayed all around the store – wearing the suits that Taekwoon had fitted himself – and are even scrolling on the screens outside.

They'd received more than favourable reactions and, as a result, the people in marketing had decided it would be beneficial to unify all the departments behind the same models.

It’s meant he's become increasingly busy and will get busier still in the months running up to Christmas, his work spreading to casual wear (underwear too once they'd found he has the body for it) and even to the home section.

Taekwoon is, of course, incredibly proud of what Wonshik has achieved, but now, when all he wants is to just curl up in bed with him and forget the world outside, his job is less than welcome.

He knows it’s pointless, but he calls out for him anyway, if only to taste his name on his tongue. "Wonshik?"

The only answer he receives is the low hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock in the kitchen, disappointing the small part that had been clinging on to the hope that he would be here to surprise him.

Instead, there’s a note on the kitchen side in Wonshik's untidy scrawl: welcoming him home, letting him know his shoot is due to end at 5AM and threatening that he'd better still be up when he gets home himself.

It’s three in the morning – seven in the evening for his body clock – and all of the travelling has sapped most of his energy. He tries to eat some food, making a meagre dinner out of a slice of toast and a biscuit that his confused stomach struggles to agree with, and then he wanders the apartment to assess how Wonshik has looked after the place while he was gone.

His boyfriend had lived alone before Taekwoon moved in so he knew how to keep the place clean, but he had a few habits that Taekwoon still hasn't been able to break. Little things, like never putting the saucepans back in the cupboards after emptying the dishwasher – opting to pile them on top of the hob instead – and leaving half-full mugs and glasses underneath the coffee table in the lounge. He knows he does it so he won't knock them over when he stands up but Taekwoon has no idea why he couldn't just put them on _top_ of the table. He’s at least pleased to find he's remembered to arrange the pillows on the sofa before he got home. Usually they'd be strewn on the floor where he'd tossed them aside before sitting down.

He stands at the window, pulling back the curtain to gaze out at the familiar cityscape, but his eyes keep drifting to the road below, expecting to catch a glimpse of Wonshik's car as he pulls into the car park.

It’s like being a puppy forgotten at home. Or a kitten.

Taekwoon breathes a sigh of yearning; how he longs to hear Wonshik call him that again.

The time they'd spent apart is reminiscent of the time when Taekwoon had been paying for Wonshik's services and the excruciating wait between. The two weeks hadn't even been as long as he'd had to wait in the past, but that was before Wonshik had filled all of his waking moments. He hadn't known what it was like to wake up beside him, to kiss him goodbye when he left for work, to find him trying to cook dinner at the stove when he returned home, to curl up in his arms at the end of the day in their own little piece of heaven.

Just before he lets the curtain fall back into place, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glare of the lighting on the window and knows it will probably be a good idea to have a shower before Wonshik gets home. It will also be a way to help pass some time.

The first thing he lays eyes on in the bathroom is the bathtub, and he takes a moment to mourn the relaxing welcome he could have had spending a chunk of the night sitting in it with Wonshik to soak.

As it is, the warm water in the shower still manages to work as a balm against the aches that have built in his muscles, but he knows it’s nothing compared to the way Wonshik's expert fingers would feel as they worked out the knots of tension.

It’s dangerous to think of Wonshik in that moment because it turns to imagining his arms slipping around his waist as he steps in to join him, his lips grazing the side of his neck. He can almost hear the rumble of Wonshik's voice humming in his ear, a soothing melody that will go off key in more than one place, though an endearing chuckle would follow, enveloping him in comfort.

Taekwoon's eyes have drooped shut and he slaps his cheeks in an attempt to wake himself, the pangs of disappointment that it is indeed just his imagination making his heart sting.

It isn't until he reaches into the rack for his shampoo that he remembers it’s still bundled in his suitcase with the rest of his toiletries, so he picks up Wonshik's instead, knowing his boyfriend will probably enjoy catching a hint of it on his hair.

A contented sigh sails past his lips as one of the many layers of Wonshik's scent swirls around him and a new daydream takes over, one where his boyfriend's fingers tangle in his hair and soothe over his scalp, working the shampoo into a lather as Taekwoon melts against him.

It’s much more difficult to wake himself from that fantasy. Wonshik's fingers are too thorough and Taekwoon is so tired; staying upright soon becomes a difficult task.

He hurries to finish after that, pulling on some fresh underwear and retrieving his navy bathrobe that had been hanging unused on the hook behind the door beside Wonshik's black one – unless his boyfriend had taken to wearing it in his absence.

He brushes his teeth after digging out his own toothbrush from his luggage, and when he puts his dirty clothes in the laundry basket in the bedroom, he can’t resist sitting on the bed for a moment to rest his feet.

The apartment feels cold after imagining being in Wonshik's arms under the warmth of the shower spray and he pulls his robe tighter to cover his chest, shivering.

The clock shows there’s still half an hour until Wonshik's shoot is due to finish, but it will be longer still until he arrives home.

He flops sideways on the mattress with an almighty groan, about at the end of his tether. But lying down is a big mistake.

He tells himself it will just be for a minute, just a quick rest of his eyes...

 

* * *

 

The first thing Wonshik sees when he steps into the apartment is Taekwoon's suitcase open on the floor with half its contents strewn around it and a wave of elation almost sweeps him away.

"Taekwoon?" he calls, his voice tinged with so much hope it’s almost embarrassing.

There’s no answer but the living area is empty and the bathroom door is open, so there’s only one place he can be.

Thoughts of what Taekwoon may have prepared for him while he waited race through his mind and he swallows hard as he strides to the bedroom, but what he finds fills him – not with disappointment – but with an overwhelming sense of tenderness instead.

Taekwoon is lying on Wonshik's side of the bed, curled up with his nose pressed to his pillow, and his peaceful breaths are like a symphony in the quiet of the apartment.

He shuts his eyes to soak in the familiar sound.

The silence that had surrounded him in his boyfriend's absence had been like getting flung back to a time without Taekwoon, when loneliness had shrouded him without him even realising it. It was like having a taste of what life would become if he ever lost him, like living a waking nightmare.

He lowers himself onto the mattress beside him, grazing the back of his fingers over his cheek and absorbing the peace on his features. He wonders – hopes – it’s a result of being home.

Taekwoon doesn’t wake straight away, a testament to how exhausted he must be, but when Wonshik leans down to kiss his forehead – intending to cover him in a blanket before getting ready to join him – his bleary eyes crack open to gaze up at him.

"Sleep," Wonshik whispers, soothing his thumb over his forehead, but Taekwoon shakes him off and rolls onto his back.

His eyes are still swollen with slumber but when he speaks, his feathery voice is weighted with anguish, an echo of the ache in his own chest.

"I need you." He sounds so fragile in the silence, as if he’s a breath away from shattering, and Wonshik wouldn't even dream of refusing him.

He lifts Taekwoon's hand to cup his cheek and his boyfriend caresses the skin with the smooth pad of his thumb. Closing his eyes, he tilts his head to kiss his warm palm before pressing his lips to the inside of his wrist. His pulse thrums strong and vibrant beneath his skin, a rhythm that Wonshik is keen to follow, and he trails higher, lifting his sleeve as he goes. He skims his lips up the softness of his inner forearm until he reaches the crook of his elbow and presses the tip of his tongue to the delicate skin, savouring the life flowing through him with the elevated beat of his heart.

He isn't pleased when the sleeve of Taekwoon's robe interrupts his ascent, but he settles with pulling on the shoulder to reveal his collarbone instead, grazing the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

Taekwoon shivers beneath him as Wonshik follows it with his tongue until he reaches the hollow at the base of his throat, licking once and gifting it with a lingering kiss as Taekwoon's skin ripples with goosebumps.

His boyfriend's hands clutch at his shoulders as if clinging on to life itself and a continuous string of contented sighs slips from his lips, surrendering to him completely.

Wonshik breathes deeply, noting the mellow scent of coconut body wash, as delicate and heady and captivating as he is, and peace washes over him when he catches the soft undertone of his own shampoo. He exhales his relief and Taekwoon shivers again as his breath fans over his neck, his grip on Wonshik's shoulders tightening.

Wonshik places a kiss at his adam's apple, flicking his tongue over the ridge, and it bobs as Taekwoon swallows hard, vibrating with a suppressed moan. Drifting higher and to the side reveals that his boyfriend's pulse has reached the pace of a hummingbird's wings, fluttering beneath his skin. He sucks at it softly and Taekwoon breathes a blissful sigh in his ear, carding his fingers through his hair.

He's missed this. He's missed exploring Taekwoon's body, drinking in the reactions he can elicit and feeling his body temperature begin to soar with every new touch, the heat radiating from his skin. It’s intoxicating to behold the effect he has on him.

Skimming his lips higher and along Taekwoon's jaw, his heart swells with anticipation as he reaches the final stop of his journey and seals their lips together. He'd almost forgotten how soft they were, how plump and inviting, and warmth ripples through him when Taekwoon parts them further to greet him with his tongue. Wonshik responds with fervour, allowing him entrance and rewarding the searching muscle with a series of long, tender sucks. He tastes like sunrise and lazy days, and he hums in appreciation.

When he pulls away, Taekwoon's hands fist in his shirt and his head rises from the pillow to follow him. There’s a note of panic in his eyes as if he thinks Wonshik is just an apparition, and tear tracks run from the outer corners and into his hair, glistening in the dappled sunlight beginning to stream through the blinds.

Wonshik kisses them away. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispers, resting his forehead against Taekwoon's and brushing their noses together.

Sitting back on his knees, he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and arches his back as he peels the fabric over his head to ripple his muscles, knowing it’s one of Taekwoon's favourite of their intimate moments. Sure enough, tender fingertips flit against his abdomen, tracing the hard lines, and his muscles jump at the delicate touch.

Taekwoon shifts underneath him, sitting up, and a playful peck on the lips greets Wonshik as soon as he emerges, tossing the clothing aside as Taekwoon leans back against the pillows. He absorbs his boyfriend's worshipful gaze and takes hold of the hand at his stomach, lifting it to place it over his heart.

The glimmer of distress that still flickers in Taekwoon's eyes dims further and they fall closed, the tension in his body evaporating as he melts against the sheets.

Wonshik unbuckles his belt as Taekwoon keeps his hand over his chest, but he’s forced to roll aside to kick his jeans off. The loss of contact is greeted by a whimper from his lover and he hurries to toss the clothing aside, along with his socks and briefs.

When he resumes his position, Taekwoon is in the middle of tugging at the tie of his bathrobe and Wonshik helps him loosen the knot before taking great care in unwrapping him. He places a trail of kisses down his chest as the folds of fabric inch apart, dipping his tongue into his navel as he knows Taekwoon likes, until he reaches the waistband of his charcoal grey boxer briefs and pulls it open the rest of the way.

The hard curve of his erection stretches towards his hip, twitching with his heartbeat, and there’s a darker spot on the fabric at the head where it’s soaked up a few drops of precome.

Wonshik leans down and sucks at it, feeling his length jump beneath his lips.

"No," Taekwoon breathes, and Wonshik looks up at him without withdrawing, not sure if he’s actually telling him to stop or if he’s just babbling in pleasure.

"No," he says again, whispering. He lifts Wonshik's chin with his fingers and his mouth moves with unspoken words, words he can’t find, but Wonshik doesn't need him to explain. His earlier utterance of _I need you_ echoes in his head and he’s loath to keep him waiting any longer.

Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he drags them down with an instinctive lick of his lips when Taekwoon springs free to throb in front of his eyes.

That’s one of Wonshik’s favourite of their intimate moments: the moment he’s fully revealed to him. Time would hang suspended as Taekwoon is laid out like a feast before him, to be enjoyed and worshipped with his eyes and his tongue, the possibilities stretching out.

And then the moment will break, either through his own lust or, as in this instance, when Taekwoon whimpers his impatience, reminding him of the aching need pulsing between his own legs.

He throws Taekwoon's boxers aside, using all of his self-restraint to hold back from sinking his lips down to the base as he reminds himself there’s always another time.

Taekwoon bends his knees, spreading them wider than Wonshik has ever seen them, and his thighs trembles with desire and effort and desperation.

Wonshik cups his cheek in an attempt to soothe him. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispers again, but it isn't enough; there’s only one thing that can settle him now.

Cursing the size of their bed, Wonshik crawls to the edge to reach the bedside table that houses their lube and retrieves a bottle, pumping generous squirts onto his fingers.

Taekwoon's eyes are half-lidded as they watch him and they flutter for a moment when Wonshik eases a single digit inside. They sigh together, in relief and longing, and Taekwoon's head relaxes against the pillow, his lips parted by shallow breaths.

Wonshik twists his finger, curving it as he does, and Taekwoon murmurs a curse, his hips jerking. Any other time, Wonshik would have teased his boyfriend for a good while longer, knowing how much he loves it when he toys with working him open, but the urgency Taekwoon is exuding is contagious.

Instead, he places a kiss on the inside of one of his thighs, sucking on the sensitive skin – where a mark he'd made before Taekwoon's trip has long since faded – as he presents him with a second finger and delights in Taekwoon's shameless mewl. His walls constrict around the digits as his chest heaves and his teeth sink into his bottom lip, stark white against the cherry red flesh. His legs continue to quiver, the muscles spasming, and he has to grip his knees to hold them in place.

Wonshik finds his eyes drawn to his cock pulsing desperately between them and, after a moment's hesitation where he glances up at Taekwoon, he leans forwards to swipe his tongue over the slit.

A sharp gasp rents the air as his boyfriend's hips jolt at the unexpected contact. He breathes a laugh as Wonshik gazes up at him through his eyelashes, a smile playing about his own lips.

"Now," Taekwoon whispers, reaching out to brush the back of his fingers over Wonshik's cheek.

"But—"

" _Now_ ," he commands, an urgent fire burning in his eyes.

Wonshik would have liked to be more thorough but Taekwoon's tone has him hurrying to obey, using the lube remaining on his fingers to coat himself.

He hovers over him as Taekwoon's legs hook around his waist and when he presses inside, his lover's eyes glaze over as his lips shape a low, drawn out moan, the final traces of tension in his features swept away at last.

Wonshik feels the same sense of peace washing through him, as if all the barriers between them are blurring and they’re sharing the same pleasure, the same solace, the same flood of tenderness.

He rolls his hips in teasing circles that grow bigger with every gentle thrust until he’s withdrawing to the tip and filling him slow and deep.

Taekwoon's eyes can't stay open despite how much he’s fighting it and Wonshik places careful kisses on both eyelids, taking one of his hands in his and lacing their fingers. He supports his weight on his elbow and trails his other hand down Taekwoon's body to his length resting heavy against his stomach.

His pace remains steady until Taekwoon starts to pant and rock his hips to meet him with more force. It spurs him to roll onto his back, careful not to part from him, to allow Taekwoon to take control.

Whenever Wonshik initiates the position, it always results in a few long seconds of bashfulness on Taekwoon's part no matter how many times they try it. His eyes will flicker between Wonshik's as if searching for reassurance and he'll place his hands on Taekwoon's hips to guide him as he eases into it. He loves to watch him as he moves, fascinated by the concentration in his eyes as he makes sure what he’s doing is right, the way his confidence will build as Wonshik voices encouraging groans.

He holds his hand static in front of him as Taekwoon thrusts into his fist with every mesmerising rise and fall of his hips, swiping his thumb over the head every time he sinks back, and it isn't long until Taekwoon's toes start to twitch, about to curl with his impending orgasm.

"Wonshik," he breathes in warning, voice breaking partway as a repressed tremor shivers through him. His eyes are clouding over, gaze desperate, and his tongue is trying in vain to wet his dry lips as he eases himself forward into Wonshik's hand, fighting back the climax that’s threatening to engulf him.

Wonshik isn't surprised that it’s all too much for him. "It's okay, kitten. Let go," he whispers, absorbing the sight with eagerness as he shifts the angle of his hips just before Taekwoon rocks back one last time with all his weight.

He always calls him _kitten_ when he’s on the cusp of his orgasm, loving the way his walls quiver as if in anticipation of it, the way his eyes light up at the endearment before fireworks erupt and they clamp shut. It feels like an age since he's been able to say it, unable to remember the last time in his pleasure-drunk haze, and Taekwoon's voice echoes the sentiment when he convulses, painting them both with his release.

He’s so beautiful, half illuminated by the sun, half cast in shadow, with his head thrown back and skin pulled taut across his collarbones. His blunt nails rake down Wonshik's chest as he cries out his euphoria, constricting around him in violent pulses – a dizzying contrast to how tender their movements had been.

Wonshik's peak had been a few thrusts away but the view before him, coupled with the sheer ferocity of Taekwoon's orgasm, has his eyes rolling back as he comes with a surprised shout and buck of his hips.

Taekwoon lays himself down, stretching his legs out behind him as he pants against Wonshik's neck.

Wonshik holds him close as he relaxes against him, breathing heavily himself.

"I wasn't expecting you to be so gentle," Taekwoon yawns once his pulse has slowed.

"What do you mean? I'm not a wild animal."

Taekwoon lifts his head to show him his raised brow and Wonshik smirks, but he soon sobers.

"I missed you. _So much_ ," he breathes, feeling his memories of being without him threaten to overwhelm him again. He peppers every part of him he can reach with kisses, to which Taekwoon does his best to respond.

"I missed you too," Taekwoon replies, matching his solemnity. He rests his head on his chest again, shifting to get more comfortable as Wonshik runs his fingers through his hair.

"How was it?" he asks.

Taekwoon pauses before exhaling a dreamy sigh. " _Wonderful_."

"Good."

"You don't mean that," his boyfriend laughs, using his remaining strength to prop himself up and gaze down at him.

"Yes, I do. If you'd had an awful time, this whole nightmare wouldn't have been worth it," Wonshik says, sincere, as he caresses Taekwoon's cheek with his fingertips.

His boyfriend leans in to the touch and then kisses each digit.

"Well, if everything goes to plan, we'll be showcasing our brand at the next one. And if you're still the face of it..." Taekwoon trails off, his meaning clear.

A fire sparks to life in Wonshik's eyes as he mentally vows to do everything in his power to make sure that happens.

Taekwoon sags against him once more and Wonshik rubs soothing circles on the small of his back with his thumbs.

"You can tell me all about it tomorrow," he murmurs and Taekwoon hums in response.

A few minutes pass with no more words shared between them and Wonshik thinks his boyfriend has drifted off into slumber, but it turns out he still has the energy for a few more words.

"I hope you didn't answer the door naked while I was gone," he says, his mouth against Wonshik's neck.

He can’t hide his hesitation.

"Wonshik," he tries to chide, but it’s just mild exasperation, too exhausted to conjure any real anger.

"It was only once!" he defends.

Taekwoon snorts. "Yeah, and the rest."

"I would have answered the door naked for you if I'd been here," Wonshik murmurs in his ear.

His boyfriend groans in disappointment and longing. "Tomorrow?" he asks, lifting his head to gaze down at him one last time, his eyes glowing with innocent hope amongst the fatigue.

Wonshik grins, kissing him on the nose. "Tomorrow," he promises.


End file.
